


Vingette

by penguinpatrolerarmy



Category: Pump Up the Volume (1990)
Genre: Drabble, Gay Character, Gen, Mark only appears as Hard Harry in this one, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24278734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinpatrolerarmy/pseuds/penguinpatrolerarmy
Summary: Or, How Chris discovered Hard Harry.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 3





	Vingette

**Author's Note:**

> I started this months ago, forgot about it, and found it again today. I dunno if this really has a "plot" so, just consider it a guy going about a specific moment in his life.

Paige huffed, tapping her pencil against the worksheet. “You get to 12 yet?”

Chris sighed. “Nope… You got 9, since you’re ahead right now?

“Uh... Equation B."

He quickly scribbled down the response. “Thanks, it’s easier working backward on these ones.”

Unfortunately, being in advanced classes meant no easy questions. The two of them had been at it for hours, since practically the final bell. It was hell, especially at a school with a relatively prestigious reputation in grades. It got nerve-wracking. Kids were constantly dropping out or being expelled But, having a friend always helped ease the stress of passing.

“You gonna listen to that show tonight?” Chris asked, not looking up from his paper.

“Of course… I never miss a Harry broadcast. You should stay over and listen with me. You'd like him.” Paige had been trying to hook Chris on Hard Harry for the better part of the week now. Yet, he hadn't gotten around with it.

“One problem with that, and it starts with a big old F.”

Paige cringed. Right. Her dad would never let a boy stay over that late, not even Chris… Her best friend and someone who happened to be very, very gay. Plus, even if he wasn't, Paige never really actively went after anyone. Because her dad would probably not approve no matter the person. And even if he did, Paige wasn't sure she'd be happy with someone her father did approve of. 

She frowned. “Right… Sorry.”

He shrugged. “Not your fault he’s stuck in his little heteronormative paradise.”

This earned him an amused chuckle from his counterpart. He was usually very private about this stuff, and truthfully Paige had found out completely by accident. But at least now he could crack the occasional joke about it. Which, though a small thing, did help him feel less alienated from his peers... Or, at least gave him some sense of hope for the future.

Chris glanced over at Paige's bedside clock, then did a double-take. "5:30? Already?"

Paige glanced back, in equal disbelief. "Crap! You should get going, my Dad's gonna walk in soon."

He haphazardly shoved his books into his backpack, moving as quickly as he can. He nearly starts going downstairs. But before he could the sound of the front door opening had echoed into the house.

"Paige! I'm Home! And I Brought Dinner!" Her dad called out. Chris hid, shaking a bit in his shoes... Paige's dad wasn't the worst person ever. If he made a scale of adults (or people in general) who he felt unsafe around he'd probably put Mr. Woodward around the middle. But, that didn't mean he liked interacting with the guy. As stated before, he was caught up in his little heteronormative fantasy of how the world worked. People like that just got on Chris's nerves a lot more easily.

"Be right down, Dad!" Page called down, then her voice becomes a whisper, "I'll distract him, you sneak out." Before he has time to agree to the plan (which is the only plan they can really try at this moment so it's not like he could disagree if he wanted to), Paige quickly heads downstairs and grabs a bag of what looks to be Chinese take-out.

Chris kept watch from a safe distance and only snuck down once Mr. Woodward had his back turned and wasn't focusing on the door. He managed to give Paige a small wave goodbye, then quietly snuck out through the front door.

Once it was shut, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. Okay, that's one Heterosexual dealt with. Now to deal with the ones at home.

It's not as bad as it sounds from that. His parents were actually very accepting of him when He came out, as afraid as he had been to do that. But, they also didn't really 'get' him. They didn't understand why he'd groan if they'd asked why he didn't 'at least try' dating a girl or understand why he got even slightly happy when he saw a character who reminded him a bit of himself. They didn't hate him, far from it, but Chris also sometimes suspected that they secretly wished he wasn't gay... Because if that were the case he'd fit better into the 'perfect catholic son' box they crafted out for him since his birth.

Well, he didn't care much for fitting in boxes. He'd been metaphorically in a closet for most of his life, and while in his mind he's only sitting on the ground with his legs sticking out the door, he's glad he's somewhere less cramped. 

When he gets home, it's just a little after 6, and his parents have already gotten the table set up and the food prepped. 

"Sorry I'm late," He says as he kicks his shoes off, "Studying went a little longer than it was supposed to." He sets his bag on the ground, wasting no time digging in. It was store-bought rotisserie chicken, chunky mashed potatoes, and a powdered gravy mixture... Or, the 3rd Friday of the month as he called it. That was usually when they ate it. It was between his Parent's paycheck weeks, and usually Friday was the day when they'd run low on fresh stuff. So, it meant his mom taking a quick trip to the store and buying something with little preparation until she could go back the next morning with a list.

And, usually, it was a rotisserie chicken, a few potatoes, and a packet of powdered gravy. 

"It's fine, honey. You know your curfew isn't until 11." His mom recites. This was true, but Chris hadn't been out that late since the Incident. 

He willed it out of his thoughts, stuffing his face with watered-down salty potatoes instead. He knows he should tell someone, and probably would at some point, but that day was not today. Today was about crappy dinners-

"Did you finish your homework at least?" His dad asks.

And doing that. "No, But I'm close to being done." He still had a whole hour's worth of work, but that was 'close' given how long it usually took to finish that stuff.   
His parents just sort of gave him a stare, and they went back to eating themselves. Dinner was usually quiet, unless god forbid he mentioned hanging out with a girl and they bring up the 'but aren't you gay?' thing. Like, people can't just be friends, they always have to be secretly in love. He quietly excuses himself once he's finished, and takes a roll with him up to his bedroom just incase he stayed up later than he intended to.

Which, ended up being the case. 

He finished his work, but for one reason or another the moment he had his exhaustion had left and He couldn't really will himself to fall asleep. So, here he was, just sort of aimlessly looking through things in his room. He ended up cleaning up some trash that had accumulated, which was at the very least something to do. He'd been in his room a lot more often than he used to, so he may as well keep it a little clean. 

When he finishes that, he starts looking at some of his trophies. There are a few generic ones: Participation awards his mother insisted he holds onto, a certificate for that year in 8th grade where he maintained an A+ average for the entire year, and his most recent: A trophy for tieing one of the school's breaststroke records in swim. 

He hadn't intended to, really... He joined swim because it was the least sporty-sport a person could do and because the scent of the chlorine helped clear his mind after school. But, it happened. And, he did feel proud of it... Probably because it was the first award he'd gotten that he didn't feel like was just a formality. He honestly earned this one. Besides, the trophies hanging around his room were nothing compared to Paige. Hers lined the walls. She had the most academic achievements out of any other student in their grade. And, she was known for that...

Chris was really only known as that gay kid in AP Physics... and Even then, he wasn't out to the whole school, so it was more realistically the 'weird' kid in AP Physics who turned down the few girls who tried to flirt with him.

His eyes fall over his alarm clock. It's already 9:55. And he still isn't tired. He glances over at the radio option on it. Every kid in school had some sort of radio. If it wasn't their clock, it was a boombox. If it wasn't a boombox, it was in their car. If they didn't have a car, they huddled around their friend's radio and jammed out.

He huffs. What was the station again? 92FM? Yeah, that had to be it. He slouches into his armchair and toggles with the signal until it's at that signature. And, for a moment, he waits in the static... Until a song he's never heard plays on for a few moments.

Then, the voice.

"Hello Hello Hello all you desert dwellers looking for water. Let's get right into it-"

It's clear from the second he hears it, that this guy is using a voice disguiser... A pretty terrible one at that. But, his speaking mannerisms are what he's drawn to. If it's just on that, he sounds kind of cute. You can pick up that he's working out exactly what he wants to say as he speaks it. None of this show is scripted in the slightest. But, the disguiser ain't really shit. If Chris listens hard enough, he thinks he can get a bit of the guy's real voice come through. A bit higher, more mellow sounding. But, then again, you can never tell with these things...

"-... Ah, what do you know... Seems I have a little guest showing his head between my legs tonight-"

Then the guy pretends to masturbate and Chris can't help but crack up. Who does this guy think he's kidding? This is so obviously fake... But, that's part of the joke he presumes. It's a gimmick, something to set him apart from the clean-slated radio shows that happen during the day. This guy didn't give a fuck about who heard him or what he said. No wonder he's using the disguiser. If people knew who he was, there'd be an angry mob of disgusted parents after him.

Then... It quiets down. And the voice gets a bit more serious.

"Y'know, as fun as it is doing this, I do sometimes just sort of sit here and wonder what I'm doing with my life... But, the more I think about it, the more pissed off I feel that I need to have that figured out-"

Chris turns over, his full attention on the voice.

"-Like, I need to know who I am before I graduate, or else I'm behind everyone else... And feeling angry about that is just not allowed. But, do I even feel anger? Half the time, I can't tell what emotion I'm having-"

...Chris could empathize with that. He considered himself one of the more lucky ones at school. He wasn't someone who constantly had one of the teachers on his ass or got sent home for behavior issues. But, He wasn't really happy about it. It was just something that happened, he only had so much control over those types of situations. And the ones he didn't? He wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"-It's like it all mushes up inside your brain and chest until it fades away to be temporarily forgotten. And when you revisit it... It's mush. It's so mushy you can't make out the details of it. I dunno. I hope one of you gets what I mean... If you're out there at all. I mean. Someone is, I think... I get letters from folks, so at least they watch... Right?"

...Well, Chris only just started, but he could see why this Harry guy was becoming a quiet favorite among the students. He somehow managed to say things they were all thinking, and actually say them out loud.

The voice yawns. "Well folks, It's getting late... I don't feel as sleepless as I did when I started. So, until next time... I'm Hard Harry, reminding you all to treat yourselves responsibly."

...What an odd note to end on... He could've kept going, Chris thinks, but maybe he just really was that tired. He yawns himself, turning off the lamp next to him... He's too tired to go to his bed, so the recliner it is. He curls under a throw blanket, and lets the words he heard just moments before settle him back down. But, before he drifts off, he grabs his phone and dials a number.

It rings... and rings...

"Hello?"

"Paige, We are talking about that radio guy tomorrow... More specifically, the fact that you didn't warn me about the masturbation thing. What the hell." He can only feign being angry for a moment before he cracks up laughing. And, Paige seemed to recognize it was a joke, too.


End file.
